A Falling Angel's Lacrimosa
by Jeice Lover
Summary: From a tragedy-stricken child, to a calloused, hardened adult. A certain Paladin has traveled his own path, making his own journey through the harsh, scarring events in life. However, despite all the darkness, he struggles to find even a spark of light. No man is perfect. Not even devils are true evil. And even an angel has shed despairing tears.
1. Joining Harmoniously in the Dark

"Arthur! Arthur, wake up!" The young boy awoke as his mother shook him quickly. He sat up, blinking with large, sleepy eyes. Before his vision could even begin to clear, his mother pulled him up off his bed and out of the warm cocoon of his blankets.

"Mama?!" He cried out, not understanding what was going on. His mother ran with him, holding him to her breast as her feet carried the both of them through their house. Arthur pulled his face away from his mother and, looking up, saw his father standing at the door. A long, soot-blackened fire-poker was clutched tightly in his hand. "Mama?! What's happening?!" He was scared, he clutched onto his mother's night-clothes. Suddenly, a loud crash was heard at the door his father stood in front of. Arthur let out a terrified shriek at the sound, and clutched his mother tighter. His father swore aloud, he had the childish urge to cover his ears to attempt to block the obscenity.

"Igraine! We have to get out of here! Now!" His mother nodded and ran again, her blond locks whipping behind her like the wind itself.

"Papa!" He could see his father running behind them, brandishing the poker like a sword. His mother ran through a door first, then his father. Just as the door was slammed behind them, a loud crashing of splintering wood exploded from their front room, causing Arthur to cry out. His parents ran as fast as they could, towards the back of the house, where the garden exit was. Just as his mother opened the door, though, the glass back door shattered in front of them. He couldn't see anything there, but his mother's terrified shriek was enough to cause him to cry out fearfully as well. Uther grabbed his wife by the arm and pulled her back. Arthur's face was pushed down by the sudden motion, and he screamed again.

As he looked at the hem of his mother's skirt, it tore. It didn't rip or catch on anything, it simply tore. Three long gashes simply appeared in the fabric, as if some invisible beast had attempted to claw her leg and just barely missed, catching the fabric instead. They were both pulled into the door through which they had just come, and his parents were running again.

"Mama! Papa!" He cried out their names over and over, trying to comprehend what was happening. They ran through their home. Passing the potted plants. The crucifixes that hung on the walls. The portraits of his grandmothers Titania and Morgana and grandfathers Gabriel and Auguste (whom he was partially named after). Even a few of the drawings his mother had proudly taped to the plaster alongside them. Finally exhausting the pattern of alternating between his parents' names, he started to cry from the fear.

"Shush, Arthur. Shush, it's okay. Calm down." His mother stroked his head nervously as she leaned against a wall, he could feel her breath as her chest rose and fell rapidly against him. "Shush now, you'll be alright." She looked to her husband for reassurance. "Uther?" His father's face was hard, his hand was white he was gripping the poker so hard. A thud came from the door, the sound of something throwing itself against it. His mother looked panicked, her head whipped around to look at all corners of the room. She suddenly carried him to a place near the wall, where a large, oaken wardrobe stood. Arthur's father unlocked it quickly with the key hanging from the lock, and his mother placed him into it.

"Mama? Papa?" His mother was smiling at him, but in a was that was scary. Her eyes were shiny with tears and her face was sad and terrified despite the smile.

"Arthur, Papa and Mama love you very much, always remember that. My little angel." She kissed him on the forehead quickly before pulling back and looking at him from outside the wardrobe. "Sweetheart, whatever you hear, you can't make a sound. Stay in here, mama or papa will get you later. We love you." Then, she closed the wardrobe doors, and he could hear the key clicking in the lock. There was darkness all around, the numerous coats and jackets pressed into him in the enclosed, wooden space.

Arthur sat there, knees against his chest, and listened. There was more pounding, then something suddenly crashed and broke. He could hear his mother screaming, his father told her to stay behind him. He must have hit whatever it was with the metal poker, but soon that stopped. He panicked as he heard his mother scream his father's name, and then, his mother suddenly went silent. When this happened, he didn't think. He began pounding the inside of the wardrobe doors with his tiny fists.

"Mama! Mama! Papa! Papa!" He yelled out their names, desperately hammering the doors. There was silence, but then the doors splintered. He screamed and shielded his face as splinters flew inwards. He couldn't see whatever was tearing into the door, but he screamed nonetheless. Then, pain exploded in his face. Blood splattered from a large gash that was carved by the invisible beast into the side of his face. His vision went blurry for a second, but then suddenly came into sharp focus.

He could see everything. The long, jagged claws. The teeth with rancid-smelling drool dripping from between them. The burning, sulfur-yellow eyes that glared at him in the darkness. He could taste his own blood dripping into his mouth, and he screamed and cried and pushed himself further back into the wardrobe. The beast's face disappeared from the hole, but he kept on screaming.

A flash of painful white from behind his eyes blinded him, he felt his chest contract and his heart nearly stopped from the fear. He was so disconnected, so terrified, that he couldn't think straight. Suddenly, the wardrobe lurched, then went flying. He could only half-hear the wood splintering as he hit where the wall must have been, and everything went from white to black.

–

Symbolism and References

Lacrimosa – Latin for 'crying' or 'weeping'.

Uther – Uther Pendragon, father of King Arthur.

Igraine – Igraine Pendragon, mother of King Arthur.

Titania – Meaning 'Fairy Queen'.

Gabriel – The archangel and messenger of God who informed Mary that she was to give birth to Jesus.

Morgana – Morgana le Fay, King Arthur's half-sister and a powerful sorceress.


	2. Despair and the Future

Upon awakening, the first sense he was aware of was pain. Arthur could feel it shooting up and down the length of his body, even as his eyelids flickered open. He let out small, pitiful whimpers and clamped his eyes shut again, trying to block it all. He touched his fingers to the side of his face, then cried out and pulled his fingers away. The flesh was jagged from the gash there, and it was sticky with congealed blood. So, for the time being, he left it alone, lest he be brought more pain.

He looked around a bit, and found himself in a sort of cave. Large spars of wood from the wardrobe stood on many sides of him, holding back large chunks of plaster and stone. He could just barely see outside through the opening a foot or so away from his face. Arthur cleared his throat with difficulty and tried to call for his parents.

"_Mama... Papa..._" His small voice came out as nothing more than a whispery croak. When he tried to speak louder, he only fell into a fit of dry, hacking coughs. His throat was so dry, he wanted something to drink to clear it away. "_Mama_... _Papa_..." he whispered again. With no response the second time, he thought he might try to crawl out. When he tried, though, he found that he couldn't. He wriggled in the space around him, but something was weighing down on his lower back, making him unable to move. Neither his legs nor his back were broken, but the weight on his back held him down, kept him from escaping the dark hole he was trapped in.

Trapped this way, he could do absolutely nothing. He gulped down a lump in his throat. He was so thirsty.

–

The sun had risen, but thanks to the rubble tunnel above him, he couldn't feel the light shining down on him. However, the humidity and the heat were rising in the small space, and he was beginning to sweat in the heat. Once the feelings of mild claustrophobia settled down and his stomach stopped doing flip-flops, he was starving. His stomach growled angrily at him, and the feeling of the emptiness sent raging pangs through his small body. The dryness in his throat was even worse now, and his face was itchy.

_Mama... Papa... Where are you? It's dirty and hot and I'm thirsty and I want you to find me. Where are you?_

–

The water had been dripping for a while. A piece of pipe must have torn above him, and water had been steadily dribbling down in pea-sized droplets, by this point, a puddle had formed a short length away from him. If he were to reach out his arm, he would be able to touch the edge with the tips of his fingers. The thirst was worse than ever before. The puddle was taunting him, it was almost torturous how it was right there, a representation of what he needed.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He reached out a shaky hand and wet his fingers in the puddle's edge, then bring them to his mouth to suck them and get the moisture clinging to them. He kept at this for a long while, though it didn't do much to help his thirst. Still, it was moist, and it helped. As he finished wetting his throat, he remembered something. Many times, his mother had told him stories as she tucked him into bed.

Great miracles of the seas parting so people could escape horrible places. Food falling from the sky. A whale that swallowed up a man and let him out safely. These things seemed magical to him, even moreso because of how his mother told him that they could come true. All he had to do, she would say to him, was pray to god, whoever he was. So, he pressed his hands together and bowed his head, leaning his forehead against his hands. Then he closed his eyes and thought out a prayer.

_Please God, help me escape this place. Please let Mama and Papa find me, and let me have some water and make the hurting go away._

–

The sun had set, the moon had risen, and then they traded places again. He was still there. Still trapped. He was growing weak and he could hardly think straight. It was only with the greatest difficulty that he managed to reach for the puddle to moisten his lips and throat. The only thing he had been able to eat were a few leaves that had been blown into his little hole. When they were blown within his reach, he lashed out and snatched them up, then stuffed them into his mouth and practically swallowed them whole. He was always sick to his stomach afterwards, but they were food.

Just as he was about to close his eyes to try and sleep again, he heard a voice.

"God damn, just look at this place. The entire town is a freaking disaster area." The voice was male, but it didn't sound like his Papa's. It sounded older, and a tad more gravelly. The faint scent of smoke drifted towards his nose, making him cough drily from the smell.

"It's a tragedy, who knows how many people could have died here." It was a woman this time, her voice was sweet and low, but it wasn't Mama. Another man's voice said something, but he couldn't make out what it was. "What was that, dear?" Dear, that was what Mama and Papa called each other sometimes. Could they have been Mama and Papa? No, they just didn't sound right. He strained to hear them as they talked amongst themselves.

"What do you think?" The other man's voice, younger-sounding, asked, The older man answered.

"Looks like fire demons, there's a lot of charring on the rubble. But I think I'm seeing some ghoul damage on the bodies we've found. From what I can see, I don't think we can hope to find anyone here." His eyes widened, they were talking about finding people! He was there! They could save him! He looked around desperately, then grabbed a nearby rock and threw it. It sailed out the entrance to his little hole, but by the sound of it, they didn't hear it.

"I dunno, Shiro. I don't think there's much we can really do here. Not anymore, at least." He threw more rocks in quick succession, until all those within his reach were gone. He stretched forwards to grab a rock on the far side of the puddle, but the weight pressing down on his back kept him from doing so. Then, when he tried to call out to them, his dry throat closed up on him, causing him to choke and cough. The older man spoke again.

"I don't like just leaving like this, but there's nothing more we can do here. Let's get going." The sound of footsteps crunching away reached his ears as they seemed to begin walking away.

_No._

Wide-eyed and panicking, he clawed at the ground and desperately pulled at his trapped legs. The people sounded about ready to leave. They couldn't just leave him there to die. They just couldn't! His breathing intensified as he grew more frantic to escape, and his every breath was accentuated by a dry hack. Just as he was about to give up, run out of hope, the woman's voice sounded again.

"Wait, hold on a moment, Igor." Arthur paused, catching his breath in heavy pants.

"What's wrong, Michelle? Is something the matter?" There was a pause before the woman spoke again.

"I don't know what it is. It just feels like, I don't know, maybe there's something here we're missing." Yes! She knew he was there! They would help him get free and help him find his parents. He was saved!

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it, Michelle. Probably just the ghosts of the old residents lamenting." Arthur was so shocked he couldn't move. He couldn't even make a sound as he heard them talking as 'Michelle' was being led away from there. He saw a man still in his view. His gray hair ruffled in the wind and, a spot of sunlight reflected off of his glasses. That man was the last person Arthur saw walk out of his field of vision, and then, they were all gone.

There was nothing left, no one else to help him. He let out a quiet sob. Then another. Soon, he had his face buried in his arms and was weeping.


	3. Moonlight that Exposes my Sorrow

By the time he had re-awakened from his exhasution-induced sleep, it was already growing dark. Though, he honestly didn't care anymore. His parents were nowhere to be seen, those people had left him there alone, no one was coming to help him. Even God, it seemed, had abandoned him.

_Maybe I ought to just die already. It'll be easier than just sitting here with nothing to eat._ He leaned his head into his arms, he was too exhausted to even cry another drop, it would have only wasted water anyways. He couldn't even find it in himself to reach for the steadily-growing puddle before him. He could only stay there and watch the sun dim and disappear with half-glazed eyes. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the rumbling of thunder.

A sharp 'plik' sounded above him, like it was hitting something metal. Then another. And another. Until, finally, it started raining. The water poured down in a torrent, filling the world with noise and water. It steamed down through the rubble and seeped into his black night-clothes, continuing on to soak him to the bone. He didn't really care, though. He closed his eyes again, perhaps it was time for another nap, he would have plenty to drink when he woke up. If he even wanted to drink, he just wasn't sure he wanted to go on anymore.

Then, the rubble creaked. His eyes opened slowly, and he lethargically looked around. The weight was shifting, moved by the heavy downpour going on. He let out a gasp of pain as he felt the pressure on his back increase. It grew heavier and heavier, until he began to cry because he felt like he was being crushed. He was screaming and flailing, the instincts of a trapped animal taking over his small, insignificant being. Then, the weight seemed to begin to slide over him, off of his back. He clawed at the ground, his nails tore and the sharp movements of his head against the air and earth opened up the wound on his face, blood began flowing down his cheek.

Then he was free. With one last, final pull, his shirt tore, the wood cut into his back, and he popped out of the rubble. He wasted no time, and clawed and squirmed until he was out in the open night air. His back and face were on fire, his fingers were bleeding, and his legs were so weak that he couldn't stand. But he was free. The adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he threw his head back and let out a wild howl. Triumph, pain, fear. All emotions mixed as he screamed out into the night, the rain pelting and stinging his body. Behind him, he could hear a slow, dying groan, and then the entire hole collapsed. As his howling ended, he fell onto his elbows and breathed heavily, two thoughts fighting for dominance in his starved and water-deprived brain. One thought was that he was free, and that he was just seconds away from dying. The other was 'I have to find mama and papa'.

First things came first, however. With his body screaming for nourishment, he let himself fall and rolled over onto his back. He didn't care how the gash was crying from the pelting torrent of water, he needed water. Arthur opened his mouth and let the water fall in, gulping it down greedily. Even as the lightning flashed above him, he only closed his eyes and drank his fill. Once his thirst was satiated, he rolled over once more and tried to get up. His weak legs didn't even get him halfway up, so he resorted to crawling along like a toddler. While that one room had collapsed from all the damage, as soon as he passed through the leaning doorway, he was under a roof once more.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to reach his own kitchen in his weakened state, it seemed like hours, and may have even been so. When he finally reached the kitchen, though, he found everything his deprived body craved. The first thing he managed to grab was a box of crackers and a single juice box, they were the closest things he could grab that would give him sustenance. His tiny hands wasted no time in tearing open the box and shoving the food into his mouth. It seemed that he was swallowing with hardly any chewing, even the large chunks that stuck in his throat didn't bother him as he scarfed down every crumb in a frenzy. He lost most of the juice by practically tearing open the small box, but what small amount was left still made his stomach lurch.

After his minor frenzy was finished, he began to feel the full effects on his body. After three days of almost nothing, the excess of food was too much for him, and he spent the better part of his next hours vomiting up most of what he had eaten and generally being sick. As he laid there on the floor, stomach finally satisfied, though in great pain, one thought filled his mind.

_I have to find mama and papa..._

Slowly, shakily, he pulled himself up and onto his knees. His stomach had managed to retain the most miniscule amount for nutrition's sake, and he felt none of the earlier frenzy for food. He staggered from side to side, one hand half-supporting him against the wall to keep upright. His vision irregularly fuzzed in and out of clarity.

"_Mama... Papa..._" His voice sounded tiny, barely able to be called a croak, more like a heavy whisper. He called out weakly like this, over and over again. He made his way from room to room, though his legs felt ready to give out at any given moment. However, just before this occurred, he saw them. There they were, Mama and papa, laying on the floor, just like they were sleeping. "_Mama... Papa..._" He stumbled his way to his mother's side, finally collapsing onto his knees just beside her. "_Mama... Mama..._" He gently shook her, a small smile on his face. He had found her. He had found **them**. He was finally safe, after those three horrible days. However, she didn't move. His face began to fall, and he shook her again.

"_Mama... __**Mama...**_" He whispered as forcefully as he could, and began shaking all the more frantically. He could feel his heart tighten in his chest. No... no. This couldn't be happening. He was safe. He was safe. Mama and Papa were going to wake up and hold him and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

"_Papa... Mama's not..._" He looked over to his father for the first time, and he froze. His father's head was tilted horribly off to one side, his cheek torn with blood running down into a deep, dry, red puddle around his head. Slowly, his neck suddenly feeling like it was filled with rust, he looked back to his mother, really looked. A bright vermillion flower bloomed on her chest, her formerly peacefully sleeping face that he had originally perceived turned to what it really was, fear. Nothing but pain and fear.

_No..._ He didn't even feel himself fall off to the side. Didn't hear the thump as his body his the floor. Never noticed as his overly-worn consciousness drifted off into a blissful, all-enveloping darkness.


	4. Shining Ever so Coldly

Mother nature was, once again, asserting her hold and dominance over a realm that man had lost. The sun had been lost weeks ago as the onset of winter came about, replaced by a never-ending blanket of thick, gray clouds. Snow lay about an inch thick on the ground, making much of the scene look like a post-apocalyptic Christmas gingerbread scene. The ruined and burned-out buildings were mostly standing, though empty and abandoned. As if a gigantic child had set up a city of dollhouses and then abandoned it completely, allowing it to stand vacant and rot. Only one set of human feet made any sound in this graveyard of a city anymore.

Arthur tilted his head downwards, away from the gray skies. A small cloud of warm breath rose up from his mouth and nose as he exhaled. One of his gloved hands clutched a nearly-worn-through cloth bag, full to the brim with boxed goods. Ever since his own house had run out of food in that first month, he had taken to raiding the other empty homes along the block. Now he was out and about to taking it from stores and shops. There was no one left to care if he took something. It had been over nine months since, after all. Well, perhaps the newly-feral pets did, but then again, they never seemed to make much sense to him. As for the matter of dealing with them, he carried a rather large stick in his unoccupied hand.

Even as he walked, a twinge of light pain shot down from the scarring-over gash over the side of his face. It had hurt a lot in the beginning, but he had learned to ignore it for the most part. Well, except for when it was jostled too much and it reopened. If that happened, his blood would begin leaking from the wound. Bright red mixed with strains of some sort of dark, viscous liquid would drip down his face with a slowness as agonizing as molasses, only cleared away when he took the time to wipe it with a water-soaked rag.

He froze in his tracks as a lonely, haunting howl rose into the frozen air. With a low gasp, he took off running. His small boots crunched through the snow at a breakneck speed as they went as fast as they could carry him. Once again, he was in a chase. He couldn't hear the wolves behind him quite yet, but he knew that they were close. As home finally came into view, he put on a last burst of speed and ran into his house, slamming the outer door behind him. As the adrenaline wore off and he stood there, gasping for air, he shivered as the cold finally made its' way to his body.

"I'm home," he mumbled aloud to his empty house. His lone footsteps echoed throughout the hall as he made his way in. A while back, he had sealed off all other doors in from the damaged portions of the house, a precaution to make sure he wasn't greeted by some unsavory creature when he returned home. The undamaged doors were the things keeping the creatures of the night away from him. Slowly, he trudged into the kitchen and stowed his prizes in the pantry. He trudged on away from the kitchen, into one of the rooms off to the side. He halted just before the door and stared at it, just stared at it. Almost absently, he picked at the collar of his black shirt.

Black. With the almost angelic appearance he gained from his dark blue eyes and golden-yellow hair, black was not a color that visibly suited him. At least, not at first. At a second glance, it was almost a beautiful oxymoron. A dark-clothed angel of light. In a twisted sort of way, it fit. It fit how he looked. And how he felt.

With a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside the room. Arthur clutched at his own sleeve with one hand as he held a bunch of flowers in the other.

"Hello mama...papa... I'm home." Twin white sheets lay over the corpses of his parents, covering up their decaying forms. Perfumed candles and flowers were scattered around the room, creating an odd flower-spice-candy-artificial-scent smell that barely overpowered the rotting stench of decay. Slowly, he made himself go in and knelt down at the space just between their covered feet. He stared at the ground awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what he should do. It had been months, yet he still had no idea what to do about it. This odd state that was death.

"Well... today went okay, I guess. It hasn't snowed anymore, but it's still really cold. I got you some flowers, though they're only plastic." Awkwardly, Arthur set them down in the space between their heads. When they were neatly arranged in a small pile, he retracted his hands to his knees and returned his gaze to the floor. "Things have been getting pretty hard lately, too," he mumbled. "The animals are getting meaner since it's wintertime, and now there are wolves starting to come around looking for food. It's really scary." His vision blurred and his eyes began to grow hot. Quickly, he sniffled and swiped away his tears with the back of his hand. "Also... it's my birthday today, I don't know if you remembered or not... Do you remember how last year I had a cake, and you told me that when you blow out the birthday candles on top, you get a wish?" His eyes grew hot again, but this time he made no motion to try and stop the tears. "Last year... last year, I wished for a bicycle, and that's what I got as a present. I don't have a cake this year, and no birthday candles but... but if I have one, I wouldn't wish for a bike again." With a small 'plop', barely audible, a large tear fell from his eye. "I would... I would wish that you would come back." Tears trickled from his eyes and splashed onto his clothing. His shoulders shook as he clutched at the dampening fabric with his tiny fists. "Please come back to me... Please..."

With a small sob, he fell forward onto his front and began to cry. Arthur buried his face into his arms, neither noticing nor caring when the wound on his face opened up and bled into his sleeves to mingle with the tears. On that birthday of his, he cried between the bodies of his parents, wishing with all of his little heart that they could hold him again, even if it were just for a moment. However, this was one birthday wish that would certainly not come true, no matter how many candles were placed on a cake to be snuffed out by the slightest breath. He was a year older, a year wiser, but still he was little more than a frightened, sobbing child.

He was only six, after all.


	5. With this Secret

Arthur's lone footsteps in his dead town crunched slowly as he made his way down the snow-covered streets. His breath steadily rose in white, misty columns with each exhalation. The blonde boy shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest. His long scarf trailed down his back, hanging limp in the absence of a breeze, as even the air seemed frozen. _So cold..._ Even with all of his layers of clothing, the cold seemed to be actively trying to reach through the imperfections in the fabric and make him cold to the core. Unlike normal, his clothes were as white as the snow. Today was a Sunday, and he always wore white on Sundays. The innermost layer was simple, a white, alb-like article draped over with a small shawl that attached about his neck. It was something he always washed especially for Sundays, like his mother always used to. Around his neck, the accessory he had always worn bounced listlessly against his thin chest. It was really a combined thing, his father's cross necklace, and his mother's wedding ring next to it on the loop of string. He always wore it, as it provided a sort of security-blanket feeling of warmth.

His hands held nothing but a stick this time. He hadn't gone out for supplies, only to walk. He had spent some time going about the places he used to when things were normal. As if tracing over these places with his footsteps would help return it all to normal. He had sat on the park bench next to the frozen-over pond. Let his eyes wander over the burned-out and collapsed stores as he padded down main street. Allowed his body to listlessly rock the rusting swing in the playground. Now, though, he was simply heading home.

He halted as a low growling made its' way to his ears from the underbrush. His eyes widened with fear and alertness as the low, thin shadows caught his eye from under the bushes. With a low gasp, he began running, his scarf now flying behind his body as his feet carried him across the frozen ground. The growls began to escalate, and he could hear the fleeting footsteps draw ever nearer to him. He wasn't even halfway home yet, and they were already gaining. Things did not look like they would bode well for him this time around. With a spark of fear in his heart, he willed his feet to move him faster still.

Hearing a sudden snarl behind him, he whipped around and struck out blindly with his stick. The large, dog-like beast squealed as the wood smacked it directly in the chest, but its' recoiling snap caught Arthur slightly in the shoulder, causing him to stumble. This was enough for another wolf to come at him, jaws open wide in preparation to crunch down on his bones. With a cry of fear, he threw a poorly-aimed swing at the beast, missing by a mile, yet enough to cause the wolf to jump back away from him, at least for the moment. The two wolves were on either side of him, growling menacingly while showing their sharp fangs.

_Not good, not good..._ He tensed his small body, eyes darting back and forth to find a way to escape. Finally, he just turned tail and ran in the opposite direction, away from the two wolves and down the middle path. A cold sweat froze on his brow as he forced his legs to go as quickly as possible. A loud howl caused him to freeze, as he saw a large, muscular alpha-wolf growling down at him from up on a rock ledge. With a strained gasp, he tried to run again, but his foot slid out from under him on a patch of icy slush, sending him down on his back. The back of his head struck a rock as he landed, and stars and black spots flared in his vision. The jolt caused his scar to open up, and darkened blood dripped down the side of his face. He laid there, clutching the back of his head and squinting at the gray beasts as his vision blurred.

_No... please no..._ The alpha male growled at the other two to stay back, so that it could have the first bite of their captured meal. _Please..._ The alpha male closed in on him so slowly that it was almost torturous. _Please, please... Please don't let me get eaten. I... I..._ The alpha male suddenly lunged in, a snarl tearing from its' throat as its jaws opened wide for its' meal.

_I don't want to die._

The last thing Arthur was aware of was his own cry of fear as the world faded to black.

–

"Arthur! Arthur where are you?" Arthur looked up at the sound of his mother's voice, calling out to him from the other side of the field. He smiled widely as he picked himself up off the ground and skipped over to his mother. The sound of his mother's laughter greeted him as he flung himself onto her leg.

"Here I am, mama~" He felt her soft, gentle hand brush back his gold-like hair, and he leaned into the gesture as he let out a sigh of satisfaction from the loving touch. Suddenly, though, her nails dug into his scalp, and he let out a pained, confused cry as he pulled away. "Mama?!" He looked up into her face, and his own blanched pure white. A horrible, evil, twisted version of his mother's gentle face stared back at him, mouth twisted into a hideous smile as curled, yellow teeth jutted up from behind vermillion-stained lips.

"_YES ARTHUR, DEAR?_"

–

Arthur let out a gasp as he jolted back into consciousness. The first thing he was aware of was the frantic beating of his panicked little heart, the second was an intense pain in his face, where his scar was. On instinct, he grabbed at the place and pressed on it, as if the pressure would help to ease the hurting. However, he paused when he did so. As he shifted his body, he found that he was under a sheet, in his very own bed. Slowly, he began to sit up, holding onto his pained face as he uncertainly looked around his room.

"A...a dream?" He wondered aloud. No, it couldn't have been a dream. Perhaps the horrible visage of his mother was, but certainly not the wolves. As he moved his arms, he could feel the soreness of his limbs from the scratches he had obtained when he fell. Yet, here he was, in his own bed, if not sound, then at least safe. Stranger still, his injuries were all treated. The scratches on his body were all neatly bandaged and clean, and, as he dared to bring a hand up to the back of his head, he could feel layers of bandages wound around there as well. Even his scar was treated, neatly covered and bound by thick patches of gauze and medical tape.

"Oh, you're awake~" He started as he heard the voice, half disbelieving and half terrified. Arthur whipped his head around, setting off a splitting pain in the back of his head that caused splotches of darkness to fill his vision. "Hey now, easy there, you don't want to strain yourself after all of that. You nearly died after all." Once he had full vision back, he squinted at the speaker of these strange things. It had been so long since he had heard a human voice besides his own, he was almost sure he had finally lost his mind and was imagining it. However, when he looked, there was indeed someone there. A young girl, perhaps a few years older than him by appearance (which would have made her about nine or ten). He could only stare as she sat there, smiling brightly at him.

"...You're not real." The girl tilted a head at him and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Sorry, what was that?" Arthur bunched up his covers in front of him, backing himself up against the headboard as he hid half of his face.

"You... you're not real. You can't be, no one is alive here anymore. Everyone is dead. You're just a ghost, or something imaginary. You can't be real." His words came out in what sounded like a sort of insane muttering, trying to convince himself that his senses were lying to him again. With a patient, gentle smile, the girl slid herself off of her perch and made her way to his bed. He pulled away as she drew near, but she managed to take hold of his hand. He froze right then and there, feeling the small warmth from the contact of their hands. The girl smiled at him once more, tilting her head and batting her long, pretty eyelashes.

"There now, do I feel imaginary to you?" She released her hold on Arthur's hand, but he quickly gripped it and didn't let go. He held her hand so tightly that he was almost sure that he was hurting her, but she showed no sign of it if he was. He could only sit there, staring as he clutched her hand in his.

"...You are real..." He opened up his mouth, prepared to issue a volley of questions to her, but before a single sound could escape his mouth, she pressed a finger over his lips and shushed him.

"Now now, talking later. First, we need to get some food into you. You've had quite the ordeal, after all." Arthur opened his mouth to complain, but she shook her head and kept a hand over his mouth. "Food first, talk later." With this, she turned and headed for the door of his room, most likely to head to the kitchen where he had all of his food. "Don't worry, I'll be back in just a moment." Arthur watched as she opened his door, and quickly spoke up before she was gone.

"C-can you at least tell me your name?!" The girl paused in the doorway, one hand on the frame, then turned and flashed him one of the most brilliant smiles he had ever seen.

"Caliburn. My name is Caliburn."


	6. Given to Me as a Companion

After the girl, Caliburn, had left, Arthur sat silently in his bed. Half of him never even believed this was happening. After being all alone for months, with no one to care for him but himself, here was this girl. She had saved his life and treated him. Then she had walked out of the room, leaving him wondering if she had even been there in the first place. Arthur curled up, bringing his knees to his chest. He was confused, oh so confused, and even just a bit scared.

Then his head started pounding, a sudden booming pain that rang throughout his skull. He whimpered and laid his head back into his pillows. As he relaxed his muscles and closed his eyes, he began to feel better. A feeling of peace seemed to fill him, though he didn't know why. Maybe he was just waking up, and this was all some sort of strange dream. That's it, he was dreaming. He was going to wake up soon, and he was going to be all alone once again. At least, that's what he thought, until the door opened up again.

"I'm back~ Sorry I took so long." Arthur's eyes snapped open, but this time, he hesitated to sit upright. Soft footsteps caused the floorboards to creak as they came closer. An odd smell reached his nose, confusing him, because it smelled so familiar. Then, it hit him.

Soup. The smell was warm, steaming chicken soup. It had been so long, he had gotten so used to eating foods cold or dry out of cans and packages, the smell of hot food seemed almost alien to him. The clatter of china against wood sounded next to him, where his bedside table would be. Slowly, he rolled over so he could see. The bowl was right there, full to the brim with the hot soup. The silver handle of a spoon leaned over the side, inviting him to take hold and dig in. Hand trembling, he reached for the handle, eager to try it and remember how food should have been. Before he could, however, the spoon was picked up by another hand.

The girl, Caliburn, smiled as she replaced the spoon into the bowl. "Now now, you need to take it easy." She quickly went about and adjusted both him and his pillows until he was able to sit up leaning against the cushions. Once all was adjusted, she picked up the spoon again and held it close to his mouth. A small giggle escaped her as she smiled. "There now, say 'aah'." Arthur was a bit wary, but the grumbling of his stomach and the watering of his tongue forced him to open his mouth.

The second the spoon was placed into his mouth, so many sensations hit him at once. The warmth of the soup was soothing and rich against his tongue, as compared to the cold food he had grown used to. The heat seemed to enhance all of the flavors of the soup. The chewy richness of the chicken. The soft, but not soggy, vegetables. The light hint of saltiness that overlayed it all. Before he could realize what was happening, he felt rivulets of wetness trailing down his cheeks.

He was crying, the mere taste of this soup had caused him to cry. He started to wipe his cheeks, embarrassed by this burst of unwanted emotion, but a small, soft cloth beat him to it. The girl had produced a small handkerchief and was drying away his tears, making small shushing noises as she did so.

"There there, it's alright. You're alright," she cooed. "What's wrong? Did you not like this kind? Or are you not used to this kind of food? I can get you something else if you'd like." Arthur quickly shook his head, going as far as to reach out a hand to try and stop her.

"N-no! I... this... this is just really good... Could... could I have some more, please?" The girl gave him an odd look, but then smiled gently.

"Of course, whatever you want." She spoon-fed him a couple more times, but soon enough, Arthur had taken the spoon and bowl himself, and was slowly chewing the solid pieces of food as the salty broth slid down his throat. At the same time, tears were trickling from his eyes as he ate. He sniffled as he ate, swallowing down sadness as well as food. All the while, the girl watched him with a distantly interested look on her face. He heard her mumble something, but didn't quite know what she meant by it.

"Hm~ humans. They really are such odd and emotional creatures."

–

As the days passed, Arthur quickly found he was being taken care of by this girl. Each day and night she was there, tending to him. Feeding him warm, good food. Dressing and re-dressing his injuries. Even going as far as to brush his hair and (more than a bit embarrassing for him) wash him. She had become almost like the mother he had lost. He almost felt... happy. However, aside from this fact, he knew absolutely nothing about her. Where she had come from. Why she was there. In fact, he knew nothing at all about her besides her name. Finally, though, after nearly a week of wondering, he finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Um, Miss Caliburn?" The girl turned towards him, as she had had her back to him while preparing another wrap for the scar on his face.

"Yes, Arthur?" she asked sweetly as she wrung out a towel. Arthur opened his mouth as she came towards him with the bandages and medical tape, but then fell silent. Instead of asking the question he was going to, he asked,

"Um... I was just wondering," he mumbled, "if I could see my parents today." The girl's brow knotted in confusion.

"Your parents? I thought they were dead." Hearing this aloud, and from this girl's mouth, hurt him, but Arthur pressed his lips together and went on.

"They... they are," he whispered. Though he had his head hung, Caliburn still went on to tenderly wipe his face with the wet towel. "It's just, I visit them a lot, but I haven't since you saved me from the wolves..." he trailed off into quiet, but then, a sudden thought struck him as Caliburn began carefully molding and taping the gauze to his face. "Miss Caliburn?"

"Hm?" the older girl made a sound of interest.

"How... how _did_ you save me from those wolves?" Caliburn didn't answer him, instead humming a meaningless tune under her breath. "...Miss Caliburn?" Caliburn suddenly stood up straight and clapped her hands together.

"Okay~ All done!" she cheered out. She had just finished the bandaging job on his face, nearly perfect once more. "Now then, you said you wanted to see your parents, right? Well, let's go see them then!" She took him by the hands and pulled him out of bed, helping him stay upright as he wobbled on still-unsteady feet. After regaining full balance, Arthur began making his way out of his room, with Caliburn not far behind. His feet traced the familiar way as he made his way to the room where his parents' bodies were laid. Once they finally got there, he unsteadily opened the door and went in, leaving it open for Caliburn to enter behind him.

"I'm back," he mumbled out of habit. Forgetting, for a moment, that the girl was behind him, he knelt down between their feet, as he was so used to doing. "Sorry I've been gone for so long, I got hurt and couldn't make it..." He trailed off, remembering the fear he had felt when the wolves had attacked. He gripped his hands together tightly, his shoulders began shaking. He had completely forgotten that he was not alone.

"Arthur? You know how you wanted to know how I saved you from those wolves?" Arthur started at the sudden words, whipping around to see the girl who had cared for him. Instead of her legs, he saw his own dim reflection in a metal surface. Surprised, he fell backwards onto his knees. The reflection he had seen came from a sword, a large, glinting claymore, the hilt of which was held in the girl's hand. "Well, I killed them." Arthur felt his heart freeze as he looked up into her glinting, green eyes. "I killed them with this sword right here."

"M-miss Caliburn?" Arthur was startled once again as Caliburn leaned towards him suddenly, seeming to tower over him as he felt fear in his veins.

"Do you know _why_ I was able to kill the wolves, little Arthur?" Before he had time to respond, let alone shake his head, the blonde girl answered. "It's because I was stronger than them. I possessed more _power_ than they did, and so I was able to beat them. You," she paused as she giggled. She actually _giggled_, in the middle of this tense situation. "You, on the other hand, are weak. Your parents died because of that, you know." Arthur felt his heart stop as she spoke her next sentence. "Your parents died because you are a weak, pathetic child who cannot defend yourself." She turned her head away from him, easily leaning the large weapon over her shoulder. "You have the will, sure, but without the power, you will never be able to accomplish anything in this world. Those without power can do nothing, and will only be squashed under the boots of more powerful people. Just like the small, pathetic, worthless insects they are."

When she looked back and took a step forward, Arthur couldn't make himself move. The small boy could only stare at her like a frightened rabbit, frozen in a car's headlights.

"But... there is always a way you can gain power. And this way, is _revenge_." She stood directly over him now, sword by her side. "Do you know what it was that killed your parents? Your town? Everything and everyone you ever loved?" Arthur felt his head shake, slowly and rustily. "It was demons. Demons killed them all, and they did it for fun." She smiled sweetly again, as she had when she was taking care of him. "Don't you hate them for that? Don't you want to make them pay for taking away all that mattered to you? Don't you want to make them _hurt_?" She held a hand down to him, letting it linger right in front of his face. "If that's what you want, then _I _can help you."

"I...I don't understand. How can you-"

"How can I help you against demons? Easy," she grinned again, showing off plainly her teeth. "It's easy for one thing to kill off something of its' own race." Before his eyes, her eye teeth lengthened and sharpened, morphing into fangs. Arthur couldn't move, he was frozen in place completely. Her eyes closed for a moment, then flashed open. In the center of a sea of bright green, laid a circle of the brightest crimson. Her pupils had turned to those of a cat, staring intently at him as if he were prey.

"You... You're a demon?"

"That's right~ But unlike those others, I can help you. You know what I can do to help you." She moved her hand again, waving it gently before his face. "So, what would you like? If you want my help, make a contract with me. If you don't, I'll leave you alone and never come back." Arthur's eyes widened. She would go? Leave him alone? But, she couldn't. She couldn't leave him! Not after what she had done for him! She was the only person he had! He couldn't lose her too! "Well? What's your choice?" Arthur stared up at her clenching at the ground uneasily. He lowered his head, allowing his hair to slip forward and hide his face.

"I...I..." He lapsed into a silence, almost stopping altogether. However, finally, he opened his mouth and whispered,

"I accept. I'll make a contract with you."


	7. I Will Proceed

The blonde child picked absently at the sleeve of his garment as he sat. The white alb he had been wearing since his wolf attack had been thoroughly cleaned and mended by Caliburn. After which she told him he would be wearing these white clothes from now on, rather than the black he had grown so used to. Before him sat a large pack full of things that had been collected during the past few of days. A large canteen for water, packages of food, at least two blankets, and other such things he believed he would need for traveling.

It had been decided by Caliburn that, in order for him to get stronger and avenge his parents' deaths, it was necessary for him to leave his destroyed home and travel. Traveling, she had said, would strengthen his body, and increase his wisdom of the world. He had agreed, though a bit reluctantly. There was nothing for him 'home' anymore, but he still felt the childish pull that this would be a place of security.

"Hey there~" He looked up and behind him. Caliburn was standing there behind him, sword slung over her shoulder as usual by now. "So, you almost done saying goodbye? We're wasting valuable daylight." She raised an eyebrow at his stuffed bag. "Especially if you expect to haul all that along with us." She looked carelessly at the two blankets that covered his parents' bodies. "Well?"

"Almost," he mumbled. The girl 'hmph'ed and rolled her shoulders, sitting down beside him.

"Well, if we're still going to be here a while longer, then there's just one thing I need you to do for me." She pointed at her sword. "I'm going to need you to sit up straight for a moment. Since you'll be the one carrying my sword around, you'll need my scabbard so you won't tire out your hands by carrying it around that way all the time." They had agreed on this when they had made their contract, which was a odd and slightly painful thing. It involved him giving up two things. One, he had had to drag the tip of the blade across his palm, to allow his blood to drip onto the metal. The second, he had to give up his father's crucifix and his mother's ring.

Caliburn had said these last two things were a bit of 'insurance', so be sure that he wouldn't abandon or betray her, since her contract prevented her from doing these things to him. He had given these up, though reluctantly. She had promised to keep them safe, though, and he knew he could at least trust her on this.

Obediently, the boy sat up and allowed her to lower the scabbard over his head. The strap hung over one shoulder and the sword pointed diagonally over his back. It wasn't uncomfortable, but the sword itself was very heavy. It would be a miracle if he could carry everything on his own. He would have to, though. After this was done, Caliburn sat back a while, allowing him all the time he needed.

Finally, Arthur breathed in and stood up, looking down at his sheet-covered parents. He bowed his head, clasping his hands together as he closed his eyes.

"Okay... I'm ready."

–

Arthur paused as he reached the top of the snow-covered slope. Behind him was the town he loved, the place he once called home. He had so many memories of this place, from the time he was old enough to remember the things that happened to him. So much warmth and love from the place that was now cold and silent.

He started to turn his head, perhaps for one last look back at the place he had once called 'home'. He turned, but stopped himself, and looked straight on ahead of him. His scarf trailed out behind him in the breeze as he trudged on through the snow. The young boy with the appearance of an angel, with a sword and all his possessions in the world strapped to his back.

The boy who left home without looking back.

–

Arthur whimpered softly as he sat before the fire, rubbing as his sore feet as he was finally able to rest. Arthur was a week into traveling, but already his feet were sore and his pack seemed heavy. Caliburn stood behind him, rubbing his sore shoulders to help relieve some of the stress and stiffness in the muscles.

"Oh, poor little thing," she cooed softly. Arthur curled his knees up to his chest, staring into the fire. He slowly extended his hands, warming his fingers near the flames. Even wearing gloves, small, red chillblains had begun to form on the skin. He pressed his lips together, trembling as Caliburn hit a particularly sore spot. As she began working the knotted muscle, Caliburn tried to speak soothingly to the boy. "Now now, don't be so discouraged," she murmured softly. "Getting a journey started is always going to be the hardest part. You've barely broken out, and the journey has just begun. It'll get easier in time, just trust me. Alright?"

"Alright." Honestly, he just wanted to find people again. The hardships of beginning the journey had pushed all else out of his mind, all his energy was focused on the road ahead. The long, winding path he would take.

–

The child sighed as he sat on his log, staring down at the ground. Caliburn had said she would only be gone for a short while, but he was starting to worry. As he waited, he started to nibble on a block of cheese that he had in his pack. Suddenly, a crash sounded in the nearby foliage, causing him to jump to his feet, cheese forgotten. Arthur whirled his head around violently, looking for something he might be able to defend himself with. Just as he had picked up a large stick, a small, girl-like shape emerged from the bushes.

"Caliburn!" He dropped his stick and went toward her, but stopped when he saw what she was holding. The blonde girl held it out at arm's length. It was green and round with small, red horns and a mouthful of sharp teeth. It glared garishly at him, swiping with claws. "Wha... what is that..? He asked fearfully as he saw it.

"This, my dear Arthur, is what is known as a hobgoblin. It's a lower class of demon, pretty harmless, but a great trickster." She tossed it to the ground and stomped on it, dazing the creature slightly. "Now, I want you to kill it." She held out her sword as she said this, her face deathly serious. "Well, go on then, take it. One swing and the disgusting thing will be dead, and score one for the human race. Go ahead and use the sword, it's yours after all." However, instead of taking it, Arthur covered his mouth and took a step back.

Now that it was out of survival mode, the small hobgoblin (because it was only a baby) was staring up a him pitifully. Almost as if it were some sort of odd puppy. Taking another step away, Arthur shook his head slowly.

"No. I … I can't kill it. It's still really little. It never did anything bad." Caliburn 'tsk'ed tiredly, shaking her head with a sad expression on her face.

"I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this, Arthur," she sighed. Pulling the sword towards her body, she raised it over her head, point down. Before Arthur could register what she was going to do, it was too late already. The hobgoblin shrieked with agony as she stabbed into it. Once... twice...thrice. After the fourth stab, Caliburn stepped off of it and held the blood-drenched blade out to Arthur again. "There now, you finish this up." Arthur choked, gagging at the sight of the demon's blood. Caliburn gazed at him sadly, one hand on her hip. "If you don't take care of this now, we'll have to leave it, and the poor little thing will sit here in pain until it dies or gets eaten by something bigger. Don't you want to prevent that, Arthur?"

Arthur stared at the bleeding creature, which looked back at him with such pitiful eyes. It whimpered softly, for its' mother or for him to save it. However, he took the sword from Caliburn, moving it slowly in the hobgoblin's direction. He could hear Caliburn's voice as she stood behind him, urging him on.

"That's right. Now just raise the blade, and bring it down fast, so it doesn't suffer." Arthur did as she said, raising the sword up above his head. Then, before he could change his mind, he brought it down fast, right between the eyes.

Those eyes... the baby saw him. Even past death, that baby hobgoblin was looking him in the eyes as it died. Letting out a soft noise, Arthur sank into the dirt, white and trembling hands still gripping the hilt of the sword. He had seen into the hobgoblin's eyes as he killed it, and he knew it saw him. His eyes moistened, his shoulders shook as he stared with wide-open eyes at the blade with which he did the deed. A hand fell on his trembling shoulders, and Caliburn's voice whispered by his ear.

"See? It's just like I said. The start of things is always the hardest." Then, she wrapped her arms around him and held him, as he let out a heart-wrenching sob and cried. Caliburn shushed and soothed him with meaningless words, while congratulating him on his first killing. She let him sit there and cry into her chest, while stroking his hair with blood-soaked hands.

As the small six-year-old cried over his first demon kill.

–

_Hey, Arthur~_ Arthur looked up tiredly as Caliburn spoke to him cheerily. The hobgoblin had only been a couple of days ago, and he was still heavily in shock. His eyes were with deep, dark circles under them.

"Yes Caliburn?"

_Guess what?_ Without waiting for an answer, the girl giggled and said, _we're close to our first town, at last! We'll be able to find you a good place to eat and get a good night's sleep in a real bed~_ Arthur nodded listlessly, still staring downwards.

"That's nice," he murmured. He said nothing more until they actually reached the place, and Caliburn didn't push him. It was near-total silence, even as they entered the town's limits. It was a fairly large place, full of people and animals bustling all over. Arthur halted, just before the gate. He was just about frozen to the spot. After almost a full year without anyone else around, he found that the thought of being in a place with so many people terrified him a bit. "I... I changed my mind, Caliburn. Let's just keep going through the forest."

_Come on Arthur, it's not that bad. They're only people, humans, just like you._ Arthur hesitated still, biting his lip. _Go on now, you're almost out of food, and I still haven't taught you how to hunt yet._ With a slow, painful swallow, he stepped into the town, eyes lowered to the ground. He passed through crowds of people, all talking and laughing and doing things so _loudly_. Were people always this loud? He didn't know, maybe it was just because he had grown so used to the quiet.

_Arthur_, Caliburn's voice whispered into his ear. _There's a general store right there. You can buy the supplies you need for your journey. Hold on a moment._ Arthur did as she said, and, in a moment, numerous 'plinks' sounded as coins hit the ground from seemingly nowhere. These were followed by a few green bills. He stooped to pick them up off the ground, and hurriedly stuffed them into his pocket. _This should be enough money, now go on._ Nodding, Arthur entered the store, listening to the tinkling sound of the bell above the door. A woman standing at the counter smiled at him as he entered.

"Oh, good day there, son. How can I help you today?" Arthur bit his tongue, trying to find the words, then shyly went up to the counter.

"Um...I need to buy a few things..." he mumbled almost inaudibly. He listed the things he needed (mainly food) and the woman put them on the counter. "And that's all," he whispered finally as everything was on the counter. The woman calculated the cost and he handed it over to her, receiving his 'change' in return. As she handed the items down to him, he saw that the woman was eyeing him oddly.

"You know, now that I look at you, I don't think I've ever seen you in this town before. What did you say your name was, son?" Arthur became nervous suddenly, racing his mind to think something up.

"I... well... you wouldn't have. My family... we travel a lot, and my mother sent me here to buy some supplies..." he mumbled a few more things that the woman couldn't hear, but she smiled nonetheless.

"Ah, I see. Well young man, it's nothing to be ashamed about, living with a drifter-type family. I used to belong to one of those myself, wouldn't ya' know?" The handed the paper sack of items down to him and beamed softly. "You just hold your head high and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?" Arthur, a bit heartened by the words, nodded a bit.

"I will... thank you." Arthur stepped towards the door, raising a hand up to push it open. Then, he paused, eyes on a shelf near the door. The shelf was displaying more of the shop's goods on the window for people to see. His eyes, though, were focused on one item; the square, metal tins of hard fruit drops. He pressed his lips together, then nervously turned back to the woman and pointed. "Um... how much are these, Miss?" The shopkeeper looked at him, then smiled gently.

"You bought so much already, you can just take one." Arthur started, looking back and forth from the candy to the woman.

"A-are you sure?! I-I mean, I don't want to-" He trailed off, seeing her nod, but it was more her expression that reassured him. Stiffly locking his hands together, he bowed to her quickly. "Th-thank you very much, Miss." Shakily, he removed a tin from the display and thanked her again, leaving the shop with a tinkle of the bell. The woman, smiled gently resting her chin in her hand.

"Such a sweet boy," she murmured. "Not many kids like that these days. I hope he and his family do alright traveling. It's a dangerous world out there."

–

Arthur whined softly as he held his own hand, staring at the large splinter that had become lodged in the heel of his hand. Caliburn was speaking to him slowly, soothingly.

"It's alright now, it's just a piece of wood. Now just grab it in your teeth and yank it right out of there." Arthur stared at it, hesitating to do what she said. "What are you waiting for, go on?"

"But it _hurts_," he whined. Caliburn gave him no slack on this small bit.

"The longer you wait to pull it out, the more it will hurt. Just do it now." Arthur whimpered, staring at the piece. Slowly, he closed his front teeth around it, then yanked as quickly as he could. He let out a muffled cry, dropping the wood from his mouth and onto the ground, only to start sucking on the injured spot. "There now, that wasn't so bad," Caliburn crooned as she held onto his arm.

–

Arthur squinted his eyes as he stared down at the white page in his hands.

"The plain of B-Bedegraine was a forest of pa...pavilions. They looked like old-fashioned... bathing tents, and were every color of the rainbow. There were he... hearaldec-"

"Wrong." With a swift whistle, a sharp switch smacked his knuckles, and he dropped the book into his lap. Caliburn shook her head and crossed her arms, switch still in hands. "It's 'heraldic', Arthur, not 'hearaldec'." Arthur looked at the girl pleadingly, eyes wide and knuckles smarting.

"But these words are so hard Miss Caliburn! I can hardly understand some of them! I know how to read already, I don't see why I need to learn more." Caliburn shook her head, switch still in hand. "And that stick hurts."

"This is the way they used to teach children in the old days, Arthur. A bit of carrot and stick, if you get what I mean. Now, keep reading." Arthur stared at her, a bit pleadingly, then sighed as he looked back down.

"...There were **heraldic** devices worked or stamped on the sides..."

–

"Come on now! Just do it already!" Arthur looked at the rabbit at his feet, caught in his snare. It looked up at him with glassy eyes, little chest pumping furiously.

"But... I can't. It's just a little bunny!" Caliburn shook her head as she perched on her log.

"It's also food, which you're out of. The closest town is over a day's walk away," she pointed out harshly, jabbing at the map in her lap for emphasis. "Just do it quickly, so it won't feel a thing." Arthur bit his lip, staring at the rabbit. He had always wanted a pet rabbit... His stomach growled loudly, a hunger pang ringing through him. "Hear that? That's the sound of empty spaces needing filling. Now are you going to live, or let that bunny run off so it can be eaten by somebody else. Just don't look into its' eyes, that's the trick."

Arthur nodded, bowing his head lowly. He muttered an apology, and the creature hardly had time to squeal.

"That's a good boy~"

–

The water splashed, cold, clear water, all around him. A bit of extra emphasis on the _cold_ though.

"It's freezing in here!" Arthur cried out, holding his arms as he stood in it with nothing but his drawers. Caliburn giggled and jumped in beside him.

"Ah~ This water feels great! Just like in the old days when my King and I used to swim nude in the creek." She giggled, diving under and coming back up to spit a bit out of her mouth. "Come on! It's a time to relax! A bit of cold water won't kill you~ Swim! I warn you, though, I only swim freestyle~" She smiled at him and dove, leaving Arthur sighing and shivering above.

–

Arthur sighed as he sank into the water. Caliburn had sensed out this natural hot spring for him, and just entering the water was the greatest of reliefs for his aching muscles. He let out a hum of pleasure and satisfaction as he leaned back, letting the water come up over his mouth. Caliburn was there on the other side of the pool, hands behind her head.

"I have to say, this water is top-quality." She tilted her head back, looking up at the stars. "A lot better than bathing in cold water, at any rate." The demon-girl glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're alright over there? The water over on that side is really hot, even for fully grown humans." Arthur shook his head raising his mouth out of the water.

"No, this is fine," he mumbled before sinking back down. Caliburn shrugged, crossing her arms.

"Such an odd boy," she mused once more.

–

Arthur stuck his finger into his mouth, sucking at the smarting skin. The needle he had been sewing with was still in the hem of his alb, luckily no blood had spilled onto it. Caliburn looked around from behind him, a touch of concern on her features.

"What's wrong? Jab yourself?"

"Mmhm," Arthur mumbled, sucking the sore digit.

"Well, nothing for it, just lick it until it stops hurting, then get back to it." Arthur sighed, picking up the needle again.

"Okay then..." It was odd though, he thought as he continued sewing. Why hadn't he tasted any blood when he stuck his finger in his mouth?

–

Caliburn sighed as she put down the pestle she had been using to grind up herbs. She glanced over at Arthur, bundled up in heavy blankets. The boy was shivering like mad, red in the face and coughing horribly. She picked up his water canteen and sprinkled the paste into it, swishing it around to mix the medicine with the water.

"I often forget that you humans can get sick so easily," she murmured wistfully. "Well, anyways, you know these herbs, but you're in no condition to mix them up yourself at the moment. Now aren't you glad you have me?" She giggled, then stopped mixing the medicine and handed it to him, even unscrewing the lid. "Now I want you to drink all of that up, or else you won't get any better."

Arthur took the canteen from her and sniffed the liquid, groaning at the bitter smell. Still, he screwed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, forcing it down his throat. He tried to ignore the awful taste by telling himself it was just tea, although he had never tasted tea as horrible as this. He swallowed down as much as he could without gagging himself, then paused to take in a gasp of air. He panted, then went back to it, gulping down the concoction until there wasn't a drop left.

"There you go," Caliburn hummed, pleased. "Now you go ahead and take a good, long rest."

–

Caliburn looked up as she heard the odd sound emanating around them. They had taken up residence for the night in a small cave just off of a sandy cove. She looked at her wielder, who was blowing continuously into a small object.

"What's that you've got there, Arthur?" she asked curiously. The blonde child stopped, looking away, embarrassed.

"It... it's an instrument that belonged to my papa. It's called an ocarina. He let me play it sometimes if I was good, he even taught me some songs on it." Caliburn nodded, eyeing the serene expression on his face as he spoke of his deceased parent.

"Well, I don't normally like human music, except for the old kind, but this is really nice. What song is that?"

"Nothing in particular," Arthur sighed. He looked solemn all of a sudden, eyes going to half-lid. "It's just something I made up. It helps, sometimes, when I can play music. It lets me get the sadness out." Taking in a breath, he began to play once more. The slow, deep melody wove its' way around the rocks and out over the sea, carrying the sound of his sorrow across the waves.

–

Arthur breathed heavily, his entire body shivering as he whimpered softly. The ground around him was sticky with dark blood, and cuts and scratches covered almost all of his body. Rotting corpses of now-dead demons laid everywhere, eyes glazed over and dim.

He dropped the handle of the blade, bringing his blood-slick hands up to his face. Bright blue eyes began to blur as tears invaded his vision. He could hear a giggle from Caliburn, still inside of her blade-home.

_See now, Arthur? Didn't I tell you it would get easier with time?_


	8. Into the Silence of the Blue Night

Arthur huffed and adjusted Caliburn over his shoulder as they wandered through the woods. Spring was coming in upon the land, and the harshness of the chill had begun to fade. His bag was considerably lighter, mainly because he had eaten most of the food he had packed, but also because he had left behind quite a few things. Learning how to start a fire with flint from Caliburn was reason enough to sell the lighter he had packed at a town they had passed. The many blankets were exchanged with a merchant for one, thick, weatherproof one.

His hair had grown out considerably as well. From a short, neat cut that barely went past his chin, to a long mane that now flowed out and around his shoulders. His bangs had grown long enough so he could sweep them to the side of his face, to hide his bandaged scar. He himself had grown taller too; the once tiny, almost waif-like child had grown taller than most his age, and his body had filled out with hard-earned muscle.

People always seemed to be kinder to a child traveler, something that had helped him find a place to sleep or something to eat quite a few times. He could take care of himself just fine, but sometimes, there was only so much he and his demon friend could do. Other people had taught him things as well.

One man he had stayed with showed him how to carve wood into small statuettes, useful in selling to people for a bit of extra money. Another taught him how to dry meat, for keeping large hunting kills for longer times, so nothing would have to be wasted. A woman and her sister taught him a few herbal remedies, simple salves for cuts and bruises, that were very useful. An old woman who made him think of the left-behind portraits of his grandmothers gave him instructions on how to predict weather by the clouds and stars (not always entirely accurate, but it gave him advance warning to find shelter multiple times).

All in all, he was proud of himself. He was learning many, many things in his travels, just as Caliburn had said. Not only had he grown smarter, his body had become stronger. From swimming in freezing waters, to climbing rocky hills and small mountains, even simple things like climbing trees helped increase his strength. Arthur felt he was growing up strong, just as Caliburn had promised.

One thing he had yet to grow used to, however, was the killing of demons. He had said he wanted revenge on them, but his hands still shook after every battle Caliburn led him to. The tears didn't come anymore, not after five years, but it still left a squeezing feeling in his heart every time he killed a demon. It was to be expected, however.

No gentle-natured child was ready to kill at the age of eleven.

–

"All I'm saying is, I think we've gotten about all we can by traveling around the West." Caliburn was sitting on a log next to Arthur, as he nibbled on a modest meal of bread and cheese. They rested in the shade of the apple orchard they had found, ripe and juicy fruit hung above them in abundance. "There are a lot more different types of demons out there, not to mention different ways of exorcising them." The demon girl bit off a chunk of bread and pointed the small loaf at him. "You could learn a lot from traveling East, especially if we decide to take the Asia route," she said through her chewing.

"I guess," Arthur sighed as he finished up his lunch. He got up off of the log and brushed the crumbs off of himself before re-strapping the sword to himself. "Are you ready, Caliburn?"

"Yup~ Gimme' one minute." The demon girl shoved the rest of the bread into her mouth (her cheeks made her look a bit like a chipmunk, in Arthur's own opinion) before hopping off the log and going to the closest tree. Pulling her leg back, she kicked out as hard as she could. The single kick dislodged four ripe, red apples that fell right into her outstretched arms. "There we go, a nice little snack for later." After safely storing them in Arthur's pack, she disappeared in a small poof of light pink smoke.

_Ready to go, Arthur,_ she said from inside her sword. The boy nodded and began walking. The apples didn't add much weight, so he wasn't slowed down by them. The path next to the apple orchard took them where they wanted fairly quickly, and they were in the town after only a couple hours' walk. Once there, Caliburn had him find the closest park, where she told him to stop so she could get out.

"Well now, I want you to stay here for a while, Arthur, while I go gather information. Maybe a good route to take to get to the next country. Just hang around here while I'm gone, alright?"

"Okay," he said obediently. With that, the girl skipped off, leaving him on a park bench. As Arthur sat there, kicking his legs out and inward, he found himself growing a bit bored. Even after he got up and walked around the pond, observing the fish, frogs, turtles, and water fowl, he was still lacking any entertainment. So, he sat on the grass and took out the apples.

With a spare piece of cloth he had on him, he began to gently, but thoroughly, wipe down their skins. He kept at this for quite a while, even going as far as to use a bit of water on them to rinse of the dirt particles. The result was the apples gaining a slight glint to their rinds, the red color seemed to glow faintly in the sun. Satisfied, he had begun putting them away when he heard a rustling sound above him in the trees. Upon looking up, he saw the strangest sight. In a tree branch above him, a man was sitting among the leaves.

"Excuse me, sir?" The man looked down at him, almost as if surprised he had noticed him. "What are you doing up there?"

"...Sitting," came the simple reply.

"Wouldn't it be more comfortable to sit down here? The grass is really soft." The man in the tree seemed to stare down at him for a moment. However, he suddenly leaped off of the branch and landed on his feet. Arthur wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but it felt as if all of the ground trembled when the man't feet made contact with it. Looking almost bored, the man seated himself next to Arthur, looking up at the sky. "...It's a nice day, isn't it, sir?" Arthur asked, trying to make conversation.

"I guess," came the simple response. They sat back a while, looking out over the scenery. From Arthur's point of view, the man was strange. He wore a long, brown coat that seemed to get worn and torn in the back as it went down. His eyes were a bright, vivid green, and he had sharp black claws for nails. He noted the pointed ears and teeth, but had yet to encounter a half-demon, or even a demon-possessed human yet, so he had no idea these were the marks of a demon. What drew his attention the most, however, was that the man's hair was bright green, with a large spike standing up in the center of his head. "'I'm hungry," the man said suddenly, seemingly to no one.

Remembering the apples that he had just finished cleaning a moment ago, Arthur began digging around in his bag. The man watched him as he did so, raising an eyebrow until he pulled out one of the fruits.

"Um, here sir," he said softly, holding out the apple with both hands. It was so large that it took both to hold it without balancing it. "It's not much, but it might help if you're hungry." The man looked at it for a moment, before slowly reaching out a black-clawed hand and taking it from the blond child. Opening his mouth full of sharp teeth, he crunched down on the fruit, nodding as the taste washed over his tongue. He let out a light 'hmph' as he chewed it, each time producing a loud 'crnch' that Arthur could hear.

"Do you like it, sir?" he asked politely. Another 'hmph' was his answer before the man took another large bite. In just two bites, he had eaten over half of the apple. A little voice called across the grass, and Arthur looked up to see Caliburn waving at him. "Oh, that's my friend. I have to go now, sir." He stood up, brushing off his alb, and bowed politely at the man. "Goodbye, sir, it was nice to meet you," he said, though they had really barely spoken. With his goodbye said, he turned and went to Caliburn, long hair trailing behind him. The man still sat there, watching him go as he crunched up the last half of the apple in one bite, core, stem, and all.

"Hm... that's odd," he mused, using a claw to pick out a seed from his fangs. "It's certainly been a while since I've received an offering by hand like that." And with that, the King of the Earth stood from his seat on the grass and went on, disappearing in the shadows of the trees.

–

Arthur grimaced as he held Caliburn up against the creature. A large fire demon had taken residence in the forest, and had been blamed for ruining the crops of the villagers by burning them to ashes. The heat was making his face burn, and not just because of the fire. Every time he came close, the heat caused pain to flare up in his scar, and he was forced to step back.

_Close-range fighting won't work, Arthur_ Caliburn advised. _I think it's time we tried what I told you about._ Arthur nodded and, lifting Caliburn up one handed, also took a lock of his hair into hand.

"Right," he agreed. With one quick swipe, a large lock of his waist-length hair was cut off. As he watched in awe, it disappeared right out of his hand and into thin air. "Wow..."

_No time to admire it, here it comes!_ Caliburn warned him. Arthur looked up quickly, seeing the thing come barreling towards him, eyes literally ablaze. Arthur nodded hurriedly and pulled back the blade, which had begun crackling with energy. _Swing it down! Now!_

With a cry of effort, Arthur did as she told him, bringing down the weapon as the flame demon barreled into him. There was a flash of blinding light, a cry of agony from the demon, and the sound of released energy. When Arthur opened his eyes again, the thing was gone, leaving only a scorch-mark on the ground where it had stood.

"Wow..." Arthur murmured distantly. Caliburn giggled, a tinkly sound like a bell ringing.

_What did I tell you? A little sacrifice can go a long way, right Arthur~?...Arthur?... Arthur?_ The boy's eyes had gone a bit glassy, and he was wobbling a bit on his feet. _Arthur are you alright?_ The demon yelped as he toppled forward, landing facedown in the dirt. _Arthur!_

–

Arthur came to who knew how long later. Moaning slightly in his half-conscious state, he turned his aching head, trying to press his burning scar against the cool dirt. Only... his scar wasn't burning, and his head wasn't hurting. In fact, he didn't even feel as if he was lying inn dirt. It almost felt as if he was...floating?

As he slowly sat up, or tried to anyways, he heard a faint sloshing sound. When his senses finally came to him, he finally realized where he was. Water, he was lying in water. The cool liquid was crystal clear all around him, letting him see every last detail on the smooth, cool bottom. A few fish darted away as he moved, but quickly came back and swam in small circles close to him.

"Where..." he mumbled aloud, uncaring even as water cascaded down his back from his sopping hair. Before he could pull a full question together, he heard someone giggling. Turning, he thought he was seeing a woman. He could see quickly, though, that this was no human woman. She looked as though she was made of water itself, the liquid looked as though it emerged and dribbled down from the odd hood that seemed to be a part of her head. Even her eyes were of water, clear and semi-transparent like the rest of her.

"Oh~ You're awake, Arthur~" Arthur turned, feeling relieved when he saw Caliburn sitting on a rock just above the water-line. A few more of these odd women were sitting in the water around the rock, making odd, bubbly giggling sounds as they appeared to watch him.

"Caliburn, where are we? What happened? And who are they?" The blond girl stood and hopped off of her rock, quickly making her way to the damp, smooth-stoned shore next to where he lay on his shallow alcove.

"Oh, you fell unconscious after you defeated that fire demon. I guess all of the heat aggravated your scar too much, and that last attack drained a lot of energy from you. So, you passed out." She shrugged before she went on. "Luckily, though, these kind ladies saw what happened and came to help after you toppled over." She motioned to the woman who sat beside Arthur in the water, watching him with watery eyes. "These here are naiads, a type of water demon. And this is their little grotto." Arthur froze as her words were spoken.

"Th-they're demons?! But Caliburn-!" A finger was laid against his lips as Caliburn shushed him.

"Don't worry, Arthur, they're demons, but they're of the more harmless type." Her hand moved away from her mouth and towards the naiad who was closest to him. Caliburn passed her fingers right through the naiad's body, coming out wet on the other side. "Naiads are considered to be guardians of pure, clean water. They have a lot of healing and regenerative abilities, too. So humans will often go to them and give offerings in exchange for blessings of good health and pure water." Arthur looked at the water women, who continued to sit passively as they watched him and his sword. He was sure they could hear, but they didn't seem to mind Caliburn's explanation of their nature.

"But... I thought demons were bad and evil, and they only caused destruction and hurt. That's what you told me," he said in a way that most would have seen as innocent. Caliburn only smiled enigmatically as she twirled her hair around her finger.

"Did I?... Ah well. Anyways, even if most are like that, not all are. I mean, look at me." She tilted her head, giving her wielder her brightest and sweetest smile. "Anyways, I think there's a saying among you humans, something about not looking a gift donkey in the ear or something. Well, aside from the metaphors, you ought to thank them for their help. They were willing to help you, after all." Arthur nodded as he saw her point, and bowed his head to the naiad beside him.

"You're right, I'm sorry. Thank you so much for your help, Miss Naiad. I really appreciate it." In response, the naiad cooed softly, sounding almost like someone doing a soft imitation of a whale. Arthur flinched as her hand came up, but the only thing that happened was that a shallow puddle of cool water pooled up in her cupped hand. Unlike a human hand, none dripped out between her own watery fingers. She held it up to his mouth, waiting until he finally realized she wanted him to drink. "Oh... um... okay, I suppose," he mumbled. The naiad placed her hand against his lips, and Arthur slowly drank the water she had offered.

It tasted cool and sweet, without a trace of any hard minerals or other such things. It quenched his thirst and soothed the burning of his throat. By the time he was done, he felt refreshed and rested, all the way down to his fingers and toes. Even his scar felt like it was throbbing less. As he sat there, wiping the water from his lips, he felt another pair of hands touch him.

Another naiad, identical in appearance to the one who had given him a drink, was leaving wet trails on his cheeks as her fingers grazed across his skin. He felt somehow soothed by her cool, moist touch, and kept himself from moving so as not to disturb whatever she was doing. She removed the bandages covering his scar and looked at it closely. A low, sad sound, like a whale in higher pitch, escaped her watery lips.

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt that bad now," he tried to reassure the water demon. However, before the sentence was all the way out, he felt cool, watery fingers touch the injury. Arthur froze instinctively, fearing a twinge of pain at a touch. It was fine, though, because it only felt like a watery cloth being held gently against the injury. He felt the fingers begin to slowly make their way down the half-healed scar. As the watery feeling moved, he felt even more relief than before, as if something gunky and disgusting was being removed from the injury.

Finally, although a bit to his disappointment, the feeling disappeared as the naiad's fingers pulled away. When he turned, he saw she was holding what appeared to be an orb of water in her semi-transparent hand. There were multiple black, inky looking splotches in the orb, looking disgusting and filthy within the clear water. Releasing a sound that was something like a harsh dolphin's click, the naiad tossed the orb at the cave wall, making it splash apart and the droplets trickle down the stone and disappear into the smooth pebbles below.

"Ew," Arthur said childishly. The two naiads close to him giggled and smiled. They tilted their heads and looked at him happily. To thank them, Arthur decided to stay a while, joining in with odd little games the water women played in their shallow pool within the cave. Mostly, though, they seemed to only want to fawn over him and caress him, as though he were some sort of odd pet.

Finally, with injuries healed and canteen filled, Caliburn told him it was time to go. Arthur got up reluctantly, seeing the slight disappointment he felt in the faces of the naiads. He smiled at them, though, and bowed respectfully, as he had been taught.

"Thank you again for helping me, I wish there was something I could do to really say thank you." In response to this, the closest naiad giggled and came close. She leaned down and placed a quick, but wet kiss on his forehead. Arthur let her do this and stood still until she backed away the slightest bit, a the slightest trace of coy, benign happiness in her watery features.

"Goodbye, I hope we can meet again someday." With one last bow, he adjusted Caliburn on his back and left through the waterfall entrance into the naiads' secret pool. "They were very nice," he mused as he skipped along some stones jutting out of the water. He hopped along them until he had made his way to the shore. "So maybe... not all demons are bad, Caliburn?"

_Mm... I dunno about that. I'd just say that some demons aren't as bad as others_ Caliburn said cryptically. On the inside of her sword as Arthur moved on, however, her thoughts were far less pleasant.

_Hussies. They only helped him because he's handsome, stupid ugly hags. Hmph. Well, at least they were actually able to do something to help. If they hadn't, I would have destroyed them and their stupid ugly hole. Oh well, lucky them, I guess. Tee hee~_

–

"What did you say this country was named again, Caliburn?" The demon, inside her sword, thought a moment before answering.

_If memory serves correctly, I believe this place is called 'Germany'._ Arthur gazed around, rubbing at his face just outside the bandage patch.

"Germany, hm?" It seemed to be such a happy place. People were laughing as they walked down the streets, chatting with their words as well as their hands. Cats roamed everywhere as well, seeming to have free reign of the streets as they marched along the tops of the walls like small kings and queens of the city. Arthur understood only small snatches of their conversations, but he could tell they had little to no cares in this world. "It's really nice, and it's not hot since it's winter. So it feels really nice." From their travels, Arthur had found that hot places bothered his scar the most. Hot springs and such were fine, but places like Italy and Spain bothered him. "Where do you think we ought to stay tonight? Back out in the forest?"

_Hm... I think I spy a little chapel over there. It will be warmer, looks like it's going to snow tonight_. Arthur nodded as he spied the clouds, looking dark and ominous as they loomed up above.

"I think you're right. We'd better get inside quick." He took off at a brisk pace, trying to get along quickly. However, just as he was about to pass over a patch of barren earth just across the road from the chapel, he tripped and fell right in the middle of it.

_Are you alright?!_ Came the worried gush from Caliburn. He grunted and pushed himself to his elbows, wincing from soreness.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit bumped up," he reassured his sword. As the child pushed himself to his knees to brush off his sleeves, he saw a bit of movement on the ground. A little spot of green pushed itself to the top, odd considering how it was winter. However, soon the little green became a tiny head, then a torso and arms, until finally it came all the way out as a tiny creature made of green. Arthur wasn't startled, but stared curiously at the thing. Soon, more of them had sprouted out, and he was surrounded by the little things. They were all about where he sat, looking up at him almost sleepily as some of them tugged at the hems of his white alb. All of them let out an quiet cry that sounded something like 'nii'. "Caliburn, what are these?" he asked as he picked off one that had attempted to climb up a lock of hair. They seemed harmless enough, so he wasn't too bothered by the number of them.

_These?... Oh, these things. They're greenmen, kin to the king of Earth, Amaimon. They do things like make plants grow and keep gardens healthy. These are just babies, too, from the size of them. They must have been hibernating underground to wait out the winter, since cold doesn't suit plants and all._ Arthur held out a hand to one of them and the thing immediately jumped onto his hand to nuzzle against his fingers.

"Oh... I guess I must have woken them up when I fell on their hibernation spot." He brought the greenman on his hand up to his face. "I'm sorry I disturbed you, I didn't know you were sleeping here." The greenman he held didn't seem too bothered at having been woken up. In fact, all of them were letting out cheery little cries and trying to either nuzzle or climb him. With a gentle smile, Arthur picked them off and set them back on the ground before standing up. "Well, I really have to go now, it's getting cold out, and I don't think it's a good idea for any of us to be out in the cold right now. You ought to go back to sleep." He stepped out of the circle of greenmen and walked to the border of the sleeping garden. "Goodbye all of you, have a nice sleep." A chorus of little 'nii's followed him as he continued across the street and into the chapel.

Once inside, Arthur quickly found himself a small space in one of the back rows of pews. It was empty, aside from a few parishioners kneeling towards the altar at the front. Arthur took the blanket from his bag and laid it down on the pew, rolling up the top just a bit for a place where he could rest his head. Caliburn was taken off of his back and he clutched the demon-weapon in her scabbard, as if the blade were some sort of odd, deadly teddy bear. He curled up and bundled himself inside of his alb. Then, he pulled his boots up into the cloth as far as he could and drifted off into slumber, unseen even as the last of the worshipers drifted out and back to their homes.

–

When Arthur awoke, he knew it must have still been night because it was still dark. Only, something was different. It was only when he shifted that he knew what was different. A blanket fell off of his shoulders and pooled around his waist when he sat himself up. His own blanket was still beneath him, so it couldn't have been that.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you?" The friendly voice drew Arthur's attention to the side of the church, where a young man in a priest's garb seemed to be lighting candles. "Hello there, my name is Hanz, I'm a priest in training here. I saw you sleeping and thought you looked cold, so I gave you that blanket. I hope you don't mind." Arthur shook his head, clutching the heavy, woolen blanket.

"No... it was nice of you to do that, thank you." The priest-in-training smiled softly and went on with his work, setting flame to the wicks of each candle in the room.

"Well, if you're going to stay, then I hope you're a sound sleeper. The older reverends are planning on doing a special prayer ceremony, so there will be a lot of chanting." Arthur shook his head, returning the expression.

"I'll be fine, I can sleep fairly soundly." Hanz nodded and made to move to the other side of the church.

"Well, if you're sure then. Sleep well." Arthur nodded, lying back down and pulling the blanket back over himself. He fingered the edge of the cloth slightly, then turned his face to Caliburn, still gripped in his hands.

"That was really nice of him... don't you think?" he asked in a whisper. He got no response from his sword, so he simply assumed that she had fallen back to sleep, or had never woken up in the first place. So, he cuddled up against the sheathed blade and closed his eyes, falling asleep in less than a moment.

–

What awoke Arthur next was an odd sort of change, more of a feeling than an actual physical sensation. There was candlelight, but somehow softer and darker than normal candlelight. Then, the sluggishness of his former sleep broke when an agonized scream reached his ears. The boy shot up, looking around, and froze when his eyes met the sight before him.

There were men up at the front of the church, where the altar was set. Only, half of the men were in pain, set aflame by fire that was somehow bright blue in color. Even as he watched, one of the men began bleeding from the eyes and mouth, then set on fire himself. He fumbled for a moment until he untangled himself from his blankets and 'whump'ed onto the floor. He didn't think to grab for Caliburn as he leaped out into the aisle. One man had tried to run from the altar, but stopped cold when they saw him.

"Mr. Hanz! What's going on?!" The young priest looked behind him with terror, then made to grab at Arthur's hand.

"I think I may know, but I'll explain later, we need to get out of here now!" He grabbed Arthur and tried to run, but the blond child dug his feet into the floor and tried to turn back. Caliburn was still on the bench, and he found himself panicked at the thought of leaving her there.

"Wait! I can't leave without-!"

"We can come back and get whatever you left behind later!" Hanz cried in a near-panic. "We need to get away before- augh!" he froze, clutching at his throat and bending over. "No... kid, please... RUN!" He let out an agonized 'gack' as blood ran down his face, and he became engulfed in the same blue flames as the rest of them. Arthur stepped back, pulling his hand away from the aflame man before Hanz collapsed to the floor. Arthur ran back to where Caliburn still lie and made to pick her up.

"Caliburn! We have to get out of here! Something is really wrong here! All of these people are catching on fire and-!" He froze, feeling his heart inexplicably drop to his stomach. Then, he felt a flash of warmth surround him, and everything around him went blue. He stumbled backwards, his voice caught in his throat. Just as he felt he was going to faint from fear and the too-quick beating of his heart, something nearly made it stop altogether.

A simple voice sounded in his head. He couldn't make out what it was saying, but the pure, twisted darkness in the voice sent a spasm of unbridled fear through him.

The last sound Arthur made before he collapsed was a scream of terror, and blue turned to black.

–

"-r...th-r... Ar...ur..." Arthur groaned and shifted as he heard the odd syllables come through his hearing. "Arth-r, wak- -p..." Finally, the blond child opened his eyes, and saw the blurred outline of Caliburn leaning over him. That was odd... now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Caliburn in person for a while. He coughed and sat up, he felt overly-warm and dirty. "Ah, Arthur, you're awake, I'm so glad. But take it easy now, you're still weak from last night."

Last night... Arthur jerked as the memories of the night before came back to him. That blue fire. The priests bleeding from their faces and burning as they screamed. He tensed up and clutched at his scar, the gauze over it felt almost soaked through with blood.

"Hey, hey, take it easy, you shouldn't be moving right now," the demon sword soothed. Despite her soothing warnings, he still looked around. He choked as he saw the burnt corpses come into view. They were all burnt beyond recognition, even Hanz, whom he only saw because the man had been the closest to him when he had burned. Arthur lowered his face, shaking violently as his bangs hid his eyes. "You see Mr. Arthur? This is why I'm teaching you these things. Demons can do these things, they'll kill anyone they come across, if you're not careful.

"...Demons..." Arthur murmured, eyes still not visible to her.

"That's right. Demons. They are beings of great destruction, and unless someone does something. They will continue to do so. Destroy the destroyer, lest they destroy-" She stopped as Arthur shot up from his sitting position, pulled her blade from the sheath, and ran off with it out the chapel doors. "...you... Arthur?"

Arthur had run outside, and across the street to the patch of earth from the evening before. The child stood there a moment, looking darkly down at the ground before raising the blade and stabbing it into the ground.

A sound like muffled shrieking met his ears as the blade entered the ground. He raised it over his head and stabbed the Greenmen's home, again and again and again. Even when they tried to grow vines and thorns to defend themselves with, his sword only cut through them as easily as a scythe might cut grass. He didn't stop until the last of the shrieks had died, and even then he was still breathing heavily, eyes wild behind his curtain of blond bangs.

"My my, what a mess we have here," Caliburn cooed as she looked around at the hole-ridden ground. Arthur turned his head in her direction, still shaking violently. "I must say, I've never seen you get so angry and violent like this. It's actually sort of refreshing, knowing that you can do something like this once you're pushed far enough. But didn't I tell you that these greenmen were harmless? But of course, I also told you about _all_ demons being evil, didn't I?~" The girl might have rambled on for a while, but never got the chance to. As she turned her head to survey the dirt-patch, she found herself knocked to the ground, and heard her sword fall to the dirt with a clatter as well.

Looking directly up, she saw Arthur's face directly above hers, his legs were over her stomach to keep her from moving. Still, the demon did nothing, even as she felt his hands wrap around her throat and begin to squeeze tightly. Instead, she only smiled gracefully at her small wielder, a kindly twinkle appearing in her bright eyes. Caliburn could see his eyes, and saw that they were shiny with tears.

"My, my~ I suppose I'm a demon too, then, aren't I?" she mused in a bored tone. As she spoke, she never looked away from his tearing-over eyes. "I did warn you, Arthur, I am a demon, but I am here to help you kill demons. You have followed me this far, but you were reluctant. Now, though, you have seen for yourself, once again, what they will do to humans without mercy. Those men in the church? They were innocent, going about their dull little lives as though nothing bad could ever happen. Then, a demon took their lives away, simple as that.

"And not just any demon," she went on. "I recognize those flames. Those flames belonged to the lord of demons, Satan. These flames are the embodiment of us demons, I suppose. They do nothing but steal and destroy." Her head tilted appealingly, despite the trembling hands still wrapped around her throat. "Especially if it means leaving alone little boys like yourself." The grip loosened and faltered, and she managed to push him away and sit herself up again. Caliburn smiled kindly again and stroked the child's face. Eleven years old, six years after the death of his parents, following a demon blade in a quest to destroy all the demons in the world. The years showed on the child's face, especially in the tears that were now beginning to leak down his face. The demon girl stroked the side of his face that had the scar on it, just barely brushing her finger against the edge of the gauze.

"Let me help you, Arthur. Let me help you destroy all the demons in this world. If you do, I promise, I will never leave your side, and I will make sure that you are never alone." Finally, Arthur closed his eyes and let out a loud wail, burying his face in Caliburn's shoulder. The blonde girl smiled as she stroked the back of his head, letting his tears soak her shoulder. "It's alright now, Arthur, everything's okay."

As she comforted him, looking past him and towards the dark gray sky, her green eyes slitted, just the slightest hint of red appearing in the center around slit pupils.

"Don't you cry now, Caliburn's going to take care of you~"


End file.
